CHAPTER 1
Leaving On A Jet Plane
I look out the plane window, my finger going to the glass, feeling the cold on my fingertips as I look down at the land moving quickly below me. It’s funny how, from up here, everything looks so small. I’ve never traveled in a plane before today. The idea of being trapped inside a tin can while flying at six hundred miles per hour never appealed to me. I take a breath and look at the TV monitor that’s in the seat in front of me. The small, animated plane on the screen shows that we’re over halfway to Tennessee.
“Are you traveling for business or pleasure?”
I turn my head and look at the guy sitting next to me. He’s slightly overweight and balding, but he also has wrinkles around his eyes, giving him the appearance of someone who smiles often.
I debate with myself on whether or not to answer before replying, “Business.”
His eyes drop to my mouth then to my chest as I fight the urge to punch him in the throat. I hate when men go from nice to creepy. I shake my head, turning away from him. I don’t know why I even try.
I feel a hand on my bare leg and my head swings around quickly. “Touch me again and I will rip off your balls and feed them to you,” I tell him in a soft tone, trying not to bring attention to us.
He quickly removes his hand, swallowing hard. “I…I’m sorry.”
I shake my head before turning my body away from his. I feel tears stinging my nose, but I fight them back. No way am I going to cry now—not when, just six hours ago, my whole world exploded and I didn’t shed one single tear. I lay my forehead to the glass, closing my eyes. I still can’t believe how fast my life changed…
I got up yesterday morning and went to the hospital like I always do. I work at one of the busiest ERs in Vegas. I’ve been working there since I finished school and was required to get my clinical hours for my RN. As soon as I walked into the building, I was loaded down with work. Weekends are always crazy in Sin City, but yesterday seemed worse than normal—two drug overdoses, three stomach pumps, and one gunshot victim. Later, I left the hospital exhausted, only to head to my real job—well, the one that pays me the money I need to live.
“Hey, Angel.”
“Hey, Sid.” I gave him a half smile as I walked into The Lion’s Den, the gentlemen’s club I work at.
Do I like working at a strip club? No. Does it pay my bills? Yes. The second I walk in the door at the club, I’m no longer me. My brain shuts off and my body takes over, the same way it used to when I was growing up and my mom forced me into pageants. I’m accustomed to being on display and used for my appearance. I wish life were different, but it is what it is.
Some people complain about being overweight or having acne; I hate being beautiful. I know it sounds stupid. I mean, why would anyone complain about being attractive, right? Here’s why: Men see me as an object and women see me as competition. No one is ever willing to give me a chance. They all judge me by what’s on the outside, never taking a second to find out even the smallest detail about who I am.
I know I’m a walking cliché. I hate being beautiful, yet I work in a business where I put myself front and center to be viewed and judged.
The difference? For the first time in my life, when I get on stage, it’s my choice; no one is forcing me to do it. I get up there to earn the money so I can change my life in order to never be objectified again.
“Tired?” Sid questioned, following me. I have worked for Sid for the last three years. He is a friend of sorts; he’s also my boss.
“Yeah. I can’t wait until my clinical hours are over and I can start working at the hospital full time instead of having two jobs.”
“I don’t like that I won’t see your face all the time, but I know you need to move on,” he conceded.
“Some other girl will come in and you will forget all about me.”
“Never, Angel.” His eyes moved over my face and he shook his head. “You’re working VIP tonight.” He followed me down the hall towards the dressing rooms.
“Sure,” I agreed, already exhausted. I needed a shower and a bed, but I knew I was going to be there for at least eight hours, so I might as well suck it up.
“The guys coming in are important, so you need to make sure they’re happy the whole time they’re here.”
“I have done this before,” I reminded him, stopping outside the dressing room door to frown at him.
“Normally, I wouldn’t say anything—you know that. But I gotta go get on a plane, so I won’t be here to check on them.”
“I’ll make sure they’re taken care of,” I assured him.
“Thanks, Angel.” He kissed my forehead like he often did before walking away.
I watched him go for a second before pulling myself together.
“Oh! Look who’s here,” Tessa said as soon as I entered the dressing room.
I ignored her and tossed my bag into my locker before pulling my scrubs off. Tessa was a bitch; she was just like the girls I used to compete against in pageants. To her, life was a competition, and she was determined to come out the winner, even if she had to throw everyone else under the bus on her way to the top.
“Mick said I could work VIP tonight,” she said to one of the other girls in the room.
I ignored her again, knowing better than to tell her that it wasn’t happening. I was sure Mick had told her that…after she’d taken him in the backroom and given him something to convince him.
“Pixie said the guys coming in are some big-time land developers, so you know the tips are going to be outrageous. Thank God, because I need to have my tits redone, and that shit is not cheap.”
I rolled my eyes and headed for the shower room. I had met a couple of nice girls during my time here, but most were just like Tessa—a whole lot of hair, tits, ass, and not much else.
I stood in front of the mirror and put on a coat of red lipstick before standing back, looking myself over. The VIP dress code was different than the rest of the club. The required outfit consisted of a sheer, black overlay bra, black silk panties, a black garter belt with sheer hose, and black heels. My long, naturally red hair was pulled back on one side by a large flower; the rest was loose and wavy, flowing down my back and over one shoulder. My creamy, white skin, red lips, and smoky eyes made me look almost like a sexy vamp.
“You ready, Angel?” Sid asked, pounding on the door.
“Showtime,” I whispered before opening the door.
“You look beautiful. I’m going to take you in there and introduce you before heading out.”
“Sure.” I followed him down the hall to the club.
The Lion’s Den is well known in the area for its exclusivity. The walls are painted a dark brown, and the booths are designed into the walls, making the space feel intimate. The stage is in the center of the room, with a single spotlight shining down on it. Every booth has a girl assigned to it, and VIP has two girls. We aren’t allowed to interact with the customers without being asked directly to do so.
The club is less of a strip club and more of a place for men to hang out and drink while having beautiful women tend to them. If they choose to, they can watch the girl in the center of the room put on a show. I have been on stage several times in the three years I’ve worked here. I haven’t told Sid that I don’t like it up there, but he normally put me in VIP or assigned me to a booth for the night.
“Why are you so worried about these guys?” I asked Sid.
“They’re thinking about opening up a Lion’s Den in one of the new casinos they’re building.”
“That’s huge! Congrats, honey.” I squeezed his bicep and gave him a smile.
“One day, Angel, I’m gonna take you away from this place. I wanna see that smile every day.”
My heart did a little thud. Sid is a very attractive man, but he’s not for me. I don’t want or need a man. They get you all discombobulated, filling your head with a bunch of lies and then expecting you to follow them around. I did that once. I thought a man was going to save me from the hell I was living in. I gave him my virginity and my heart, and he gave me a child I wasn’t allowed to keep and a heart so broken that nothing or no one has put it back together again.
I looked through the two-way mirror at the men around the table in the VIP room.
“All right,” Sid said from beside me. “The man in the center at the table is John Barbato. He is the owner of three of the largest clubs in the city. The guy there on his left is Steven Creo. He’s some bigwig on Wall Street and has backed more than half the new clubs and casinos opening on The Strip. The guy to the right of John has a location they’re interested in purchasing.”
“Got it. Who’s working with me?” I asked him.
“Tessa. Mick said she would be the best out of the girls we’ve got on the schedule tonight.”
“I’m sure he did,” I mumbled, looking back into the room. “What other bouncers are on tonight?” I hated when Mick and Craig worked together. They were both more concerned about hooking up with the girls than what was going on out on the floor.
“Link’s here now.”
“Good.” Link was a good guy and a close friend. He also took his job seriously.
“All right, let me introduce you quickly before I head out.”
“Sure.” I followed him into the room. The men’s heads turned in our direction, and they were smiling.
“Guys, I want you to meet Angel. She’s gonna be your girl for the night. You need anything, you ask her and she will make sure you’re taken care of,” Sid tells them, gesturing to me.
“Nice to meet you,” one of the men said, smiling while the others nodded.
“Nice to meet you too.” I smiled back.
“Angel will be right back. Give me a minute, guys.”
“Sounds good,” the one who’d spoken before said.
As Sid and I stepped away, I heard from behind me, “Do you think the curtains match the drapes?” and they all laughed. I hated that saying, and I’d sworn that, once I was free of this lifestyle, I would kick the next man who said it in the nuts.
“Okay, I gotta head out. I won’t be back for two weeks,” Sid said once we were standing in the hall.
“Have a safe trip.”
His eyes searched my face. His mouth opened and closed like he was going to say something, but instead, he shook his head, kissed my cheek, and walked off down the hall, muttering something under his breath.
Tessa came around the corner a couple of seconds later with a smug smile on her face. I hated to admit it, but she was beautiful. Her skin had a natural glow that made her look healthy and youthful. Her hair was black and thick, reaching the top of her ass. Her eyes curved out at the corners, showing off her Asian-American heritage.
“You ready?” she asked, looking at me from head to toe.
I avoided rolling my eyes at her before stepping into the room behind her.
After we took the first orders, we stood back while the men talked. I learned a long time ago to zone myself out. We were there as eye candy and nothing else. There was a knock on the door, and I knew the drinks had arrived. Tessa answered it, opening the door wide, and the man who brought the tray in was someone I had never seen before. He looked to be mid-thirties, and he had long, shaggy, black hair and brown eyes.
When he set the tray down on the table in the corner, he turned and did something odd that had me watching him more closely. His hand went to his back as he looked over at the men, who were still busy talking. When his eyes came to me, he smiled before walking out of the room. I looked at Tessa to see if she had noticed anything strange, but she was busy handing out the drinks and flirting with the men at the table.
We stood to the side again once the men had their drinks. Every once in a while, they would ask me a question about the club, and I told them what I knew. About thirty minutes after they had their first drinks, I called and had more ordered. This time, when the guy came in, he did the same thing—hand at his back, looking at the table. I had no idea who he was, but I planned to find out as soon as the men left.
One of the men received a phone call and stepped out of the room, and when he returned, he had another man with him. They all sat down. This time when they called me over, they wanted a bottle of Chivas Regal Royal Salute Scotch. One glass of the stuff cost close to six hundred dollars, making it over ten thousand dollars for a bottle. I placed the order and waited for it to be delivered.
When the knock sounded on the door, I opened it up, and the same man from earlier came in and set the tray down. I watched to see if he would do the same thing he had done the previous times. Sure enough, his head turned towards the table and his hand lifted behind his back, but this time, he lifted his jacket, pulling out something black.
It took a second for me to realize what it was, and by that time, it was too late. He let off four rounds in rapid succession then turned and fired another round, hitting Tessa. I screamed as he turned the gun on me, and before I could think, I ducked down and ran as fast as I could out of the room. I felt a bullet whiz past me as I turned the corner and another as I entered the main part of the club.
I spotted Mick. Right away, his eyes got wide, and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “HE HAS A GUN!”
Everyone started screaming and running in every direction. I ran into a solid wall, and when I looked up to see that it was Link, he wrapped an arm around my waist, turned, and pushed me behind the bar. I stumbled in my heels, falling to my knees and hitting the ground hard. I crawled under the counter and curled myself into a ball, shaking out of fear for my life. I listened as people screamed but didn’t hear any more gunshots. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, but it felt like forever until I heard police sirens.
“Autumn,” Link called, using my real name, snapping me out of my terrified huddle.
I peeked out from behind my hands as he crouched down in front of me. “Did you get him?”
He shook his head, putting out his hand for me to take. I shook my head no. I was safe; I didn’t want to move from that spot.
“Come on, Angel. He’s gone.”
I shook my head again.
“Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise you’re safe.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat, squeezing my eyes closed. “Tessa?” I asked him. His eyes closed and his head dropped forward. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No.”
“Sorry, Angel,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
“Not sure, but the cops are here. I need you to come out of there so you can talk to them,” he told me gently, holding out his hand again.
I nodded, reluctantly taking it. Even though I didn’t like Tessa, she didn’t deserve what had happened to her. None of the people in the room deserved what had happened to them.
“I should have tried to help her.”
“Nothing you could have done,” Link said, and my eyes went from to the floor to his. He shook his head, wrapped his beefy arm around my shoulders, and walked me over to a barstool.
I sat there until the cops came up a few minutes later and told me that they needed to talk to me at the station.
“Can she get some clothes on?” Link, who had given me the shirt off his back and hadn’t left my side, asked one of the detectives.
“Sure,” the guy mumbled.
I slid off the barstool and dazedly walked to the dressing room. When I walked in, all the girls were there huddled together and crying. I didn’t know what to say to them; most of them had been friends with Tessa. I felt horrible that they had lost their friend, but I was unsure if they would want me to express my condolences.
I walked to my locker and started to pull off my stockings when one of the girls came up to me, wrapping her arms around me. Shocked, I hugged her back, and more of the girls gathered around me. We all stood there silently for a few minutes. Most of the girls were crying while a couple mumbled about how everything would be okay. I wasn’t sure anything would ever be okay again; I’d just watched five people die and was lucky to still be alive.
“I have to go with the police,” I told the girls when it didn’t seem like they were going to let me go.
After a second, they all started breaking away from me one by one, giving me reassuring hugs. “Call me if you want to talk,” one of the girls, Elsa, said, handing me a business card with her personal information on it.
I looked at it for a long second before nodding. I had never really been friends with any of them. Maybe that needed to change.
I went to my locker, pulling off my clothes before slipping on a pair of jean shorts, a black tank top, an oversized, grey sweater, and a pair of black flip-flops. I grabbed my bag, shoved everything from my locker into it, and left the room without a backwards glance.
Link was waiting for me outside the dressing room door, his back against the wall, his head tilted back, looking at the ceiling. I’ve known Link since I started working at The Lion’s Den. He’s a nice guy, with blond hair cut low to his head, tan skin, blue eyes, and a Southern drawl that made women fall to their knees. He used to flirt with me when I first started, but when I didn’t return any of the banter, he laid off and became a friend. He is one of the only people who knows about my past and the things I’ve gone through.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” I told him, pulling my bag across my body.
“I’m not letting you go through this alone.” He pulled me into his side.
I could feel tears stinging my eyes, and I fought them back. I wasn’t going to cry until this was all over, when I could do it alone while hiding under my covers with my face stuffed into a pillow…like I always did.
“Thank you.”
He gave me a squeeze, and I felt his lips at the top of my head.
*
“I don’t understand why I have to leave the state,” I told Link, putting another pair of shoes in my bag. I had no idea how long I would be gone, and Link had made it sound like I wouldn’t be able to come back to Vegas for a long while.
“I hate to remind you, but you’re the only witness, and from what the cops said, the guy is a killer paid by the Mob to do hits on people.”
I sighed, looking around my house. I hated that I was leaving, but I knew it was for the best. I’d been at the police station for over eight hours, going over what had happened. Then I’d sat with a sketch artist. Somehow, the guy who had shot Tessa and those men had avoided every camera in the club. The cops had informed me that I needed to be extra cautious. I was the only witness, and they were concerned that he would come after me.
When Link had found out what they’d said, he’d made a call to one of his friends from back home in Tennessee and asked if he would be willing to let me stay with him until the police caught the guy. The man, Kenton, had agreed, telling Link that I would be safe. I hated that I was leaving my home, but if my only options were either death or moving, the choice was begrudgingly clear.
“I hope they get the guy fast,” I mumbled.
“Me too, but until then, you will be far away from here and safe.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to have me stay with this guy? I mean, how well do you really know him?”
“We were best friends growing up. He’s a good guy. You’ll be safe with him.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded before going into the closet to get another suitcase. Might as well pack enough stuff to last me. Once I was all packed and ready to go, we got into Link’s SUV and headed for the airport. I was nervous the whole way, feeling like something crazy was about to happen…
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about twenty minutes out from our arrival destination. The weather in Nashville is mostly clear and sunny. The temperature is eighty-five degrees. The pilot has now turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. Flight crew, please prepare for landing,” I hear through my sleep-ridden state and lift my head from the wall where I was resting it.
The memories of what happened yesterday leave my head as I wipe my mouth with the sleeve of my sweater before looking around to see that everyone is putting their belongings away. I make sure my seatbelt is secure before sitting back. My leg starts quickly bouncing up and down, and I rub the tattoo behind my ear, trying to think about something other than the plane landing.
Once we are on the ground, I wait until everyone is off the plane to make my way out into the terminal. I go to baggage claim and look around, but I have no clue what this guy looks like. All I know is that his name is Kenton and he is supposed to be picking me up.
I don’t see anyone who looks like they’re searching for someone, so I go to the conveyer belt and spot one of my bags as soon as I get there. I pull it off, stumbling back slightly from the weight as every guy here just watches me without offering to help.
I look around again, wondering if I’m supposed to call someone to tell them that I landed. I pull my phone out, click it off airplane mode, and send a text to Link, letting him know that I have arrived. He sends me a message back, letting me know that Kenton called and told him that he couldn’t make it to pick me up and I should just catch a cab to his house. The door would be unlocked, and the address is in the message.
I shake my head, cursing under my breath, and almost miss one of my other bags going around the belt. Luckily, I catch it at the last second. I carry it over to my other bag and turn around just in time to see my last bag about to go through the tunnel. I run as fast as I can in my flip-flops and land halfway on the conveyor belt. My bottom half is being dragged along the floor as I grab the handle of my bag, pulling it back so hard that it flies over me, causing me to land on my back with my hands over my head.
“You must be Autumn,” I hear rumbled from above me.
I tilt my head back and look up at the man standing over me. He’s upside down, but even from my awkward position, I can tell that he is good-looking. His chuckle makes me grit my teeth. I stand up, putting my bag on its wheels and dusting off my butt before turning back to face him.
“You are?”
He raises a brow at me, shaking his head, looking me over from head to toe. My body heats immediately under his gaze. I take my sweater off, wrapping it around my waist and clearing my throat.
“You are?” I ask him again, getting annoyed that he’s obviously finding this so funny, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.
“Kenton.” He smiles. “Those bags yours?” He nods towards my other two bags.
“Yes.” I blow some hair out of my face, looking into his amber eyes and wondering why the hell I feel so hot all of a sudden.
He looks away, going over to my bags while I take the time to look him over. He’s tall, much taller than my five six. His hair touches the edge of the black T-shirt he has on. He needed a cut a while ago, but judging by the dark scruff along his jaw, I can tell that he doesn’t care much about grooming. His shoulders are broad, tapering down to a lean waist. His thighs are thick, encased in a pair of dark jeans that have shredded around the seams, and his wallet is imprinted in the back pocket like he wears them often.
I look at his ass as he leans over. I can’t believe I’m checking a man out; I’m not one to be the slightest bit sexually interested in anyone. My eyes travel lower, looking at his feet, which are encased in a very large pair of black boots. I wonder absently if what they say about shoe size is true. I shake my head at my thoughts, dragging my bag with me towards him.
“I thought you couldn’t make it,” I tell him when I reach his side. My head tilts back to look up into his eyes.
“Yeah, change of plans,” he mutters, looking at me.
I wait to see if he’s going to say anything else. Apparently, he isn’t going to, so I shake my head again and lower my face towards the ground.
“You tired?” His voice is dark and rich, and it does something crazy to my insides. I nod, lifting my head. “Let’s roll. You can sleep when we reach the house.”
I don’t say anything else. Something is wrong with me. Maybe I’m getting sick, I think, putting my palm to my forehead. When I don’t feel anything, I start to follow him out of the terminal to the car park.
When we reach the parking lot, he stops and pulls a set of keys from his pocket. I hear the beep and look around, expecting him to be driving a large truck, a Hummer, or maybe even a tank. I never expected him to be driving a Dodge Viper. The black-on-black of the car only makes it look hotter. I look at my bags, wondering how we will get them in the car.
“It’ll be tight, but they’ll fit,” he mumbles, pulling my other two bags with him.
I can’t help but notice the flex of his muscles as he gets my bags into the car or the fact even his fingers are attractive. It takes some maneuvering, but he does get my bags to fit. I sigh, sitting down on the warm leather once we’re done.
“I’m just gonna drop you off at the house. I gotta head out for a bit, but you have free rein. Just make yourself at home. There’s food in the fridge and fresh sheets on the bed in the guest room.”
“Thank you for doing this,” I tell him, looking at his profile. He is seriously good-looking, and the butterflies in my stomach are making me feel anxious about staying with him.
“Don’t mention it. So…you and Link?”
It takes a second to decipher his words between the thickness of his accent, his smell, and the nervous energy I’m feeling. Being in his presence, my brain seems to have shut down.
“He’s a friend.” Shit, maybe I should have said that he was my boyfriend.
I look over at him again; he doesn’t seem to be as on edge as I am. He’s probably used to women swooning over him. My gut tightens with something, and it takes a second to realize what it is. My body freezes. Jealousy? Really? I must be going into shock or something. I don’t get jealous.
“How’d you two meet?”
“We work at the same club,” I murmur, squirming in my seat.
“Oh yeah,” he mumbles, his knuckles turning white from his grip on the steering wheel. I don’t know what that means, but the energy in the car changes, making me want to get away from him.
We drive in silence for the next half hour, the car winding its way through one small town after another until we go up what seems like the side of a mountain. The area is surrounded by forest on either side of the road. We drive for five more minutes before turning onto a dirt road that takes us deeper into the forest. I want to ask if he lives out here and about where he works—and a million other questions—but my mouth has gone dry and the energy in his car hasn’t gotten any better, so I decide to keep my mouth shut.
I’m going to be stuck with him for a while, so I figure there will be time for all of that later. I look ahead of us and squint as the image of a large house comes into view. It is a very large brick house. The front has two porches—one on the first floor, one on the second—and both wrap around the front of the house. It’s beautiful and expansive.
I look over at Kenton again, gauging if I should ask him if this is his house. His jaw is ticking, and the vein in his neck is pulsing wildly. I have no idea what’s set him off, but I figure my best bet is to sit there quietly until he calms down.
We park in front of the house, where there is no real designated parking place. He unfolds himself out of the car without saying anything, and I take it as my cue to follow him. By the time I make it to the back of the car, he has both of my bags out and is back on the driver’s side, sliding his seat forward so he can get to the bag in the back seat. Without a word, he carries two of my bags up the front porch and right into the house. I drag my last bag with me, following close behind him.
He sets my bags down at the bottom of the staircase then turns to look at me. “Your room is at the top of the stairs to the right. There’s a bathroom across the hall you can use. I have my own.” He runs a hand through his hair and looks me over again, anger apparent on his face. “I don’t want random men in my house, so if you need to get off, take care of yourself.”
I blink at him as he continues.
“The code for the alarm is 4-5-9-3. Don’t forget to set it when you’re in the house. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but you’ll be safe here.” Before I even have a chance to form a complete thought, he is closing the door behind him, shouting, “Set the alarm!” I stand there for a few minutes, just looking at the door. Then I look around for an alarm but don’t see one. Tears sting my nose again as I recall the look of disgust on his face when he told me to get myself off. I say a silent, “F*ck you,” and look at my bags then the stairs, shaking my head. I can cry once I get settled in the room.
I carry my bags one at a time up the stairs, and by the time I’m done, I’m so exhausted that I lie face-first on the bed, put my head under the pillow, and cry until I fall asleep.
There is a pounding on the door, and I roll, falling off the bed and onto the floor. “You didn’t set the alarm,” I hear growled.
I stand up, pushing my hair out of my face, and glare at Kenton, who is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I looked and didn’t see the alarm to set it.” I copy his posture, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You should have called and asked me where it is.”
I scoff. “With what? Magic? I don’t have your number.”
“You could have asked Link for it.” He shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, but if you wanted me to have your number, I figured you would’ve given it to me,” I retort.
“Did you eat?” he asks, changing the subject suddenly and throwing me off guard.
“Pardon?”
“Did you eat something?”
“No, and I’m not hungry. I’m just really tired,” I tell him, rubbing my face. All I want to do is go to sleep and forget about the last forty-eight hours.
“You need to eat something,” he chides, uncrossing his arms and placing his hands on his hips.
“Okay, don’t get me wrong. I’m really thankful for you looking out for me, but I have been taking care of myself for a very long time. I don’t want or need a babysitter.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugs then looks me over again, his eyes lingering on my chest.
I glance down and groan. Seriously? My boobs are in my bra, hanging over the top of my tank top. I quickly adjust my shirt before narrowing my eyes on him.
He smirks, looking up into my face. “Make sure you set the alarm from now on. The panel is inside the room off the entry, first door to the right.”
“Got it.” My body is doing that hot thing again, and I wonder why it keeps happening when he’s around.
“All right, doll. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He lets his eyes linger on me for a few more moments and then shakes his head, stepping out of the room.
I go to the side of the bed and turn on the light before walking to the door and shutting it. I lean my head back, closing my eyes and breathing in deeply. I run a finger across the tattoo behind my ear before opening my eyes and looking around. I can do this; I have lived through much worse and come out on top. I just need to get a plan in place.